


Two Inches

by Tide_Pod_Juul_03



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Also it's like not relevant but Bolin is trans bc I am trans and I say so, F/F, F/M, Gen, No Beta We Die Like Aang, also about that sweet sweet Asami and Bolin friendship, as a Bolin stan and a fan of catharsis I'm valid, basically what if Korra had been like thirty seconds late with the steam, but yes this is basically canon lok just Bolin is mute bc I Said So, expect swearing and canon typical violence, gonna do book one and see I might do books 2-4 too, its about the brother bonding, its my trauma and i get to pick the coping mechanism yall are just here for the shitshow baby, mute!Bolin, plus why you shouldnt startle someone during brain surgery, romance has taken a back seat baby its Bolin stan o'clock time, this follows the whole story of LoK so pretty much everyone is in it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tide_Pod_Juul_03/pseuds/Tide_Pod_Juul_03
Summary: Korra runs late at the worst time possible. There are devastating consequences.Coda to The Revelation (Book 1 Episode 2)
Relationships: Bolin & Asami Sato, Bolin & Korra (Avatar), Bolin & Mako (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Don't Startle A Man While He's Thumb Deep In Someone's Brain

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is really my first LoK fanfiction and the first fic I've posted on AO3. So yeah sorry if formatting is weird or I do a faux pas. 
> 
> Basically I watched episode two of LoK and started to obsess over what a near miss that whole equalist rally was and how they really just brushed past it. I should say, I am not mute. I do have some experience with trauma related muteness but not nearly enough to be an expert voice. I'm researching constantly and if I do something wrong, hmu (politely) and I'll correct it! I appreciate any resources or info anyone wants to pass along!
> 
> Expect canon typical violence and swearing bc I know Korra swears she broke into my home and called me a bitch once.
> 
> Aiming for updates every other Friday, be patient with me I'm a hot mess express.

When Bolin had been twelve years old, he’d gotten arrested for stealing.

That was really the first time his (and Mako’s) situation really sank in, sitting there in that cold interrogation room with metal cuffs tight on his wrists. It should have been nothing, it was a scam he and Mako had pulled a hundred times. Usually he was able to keep up with his older brother when they ran from the market security, but he still hadn’t really grown into his longer every day arms and legs like Mako, his usually graceful older brother, had with ease. 

One raised stone was all it took and Bolin had gone sprawling, security swarming him before he’d even fully hit the ground. The last thing he’d seen before being hauled into some police Satomobile was Mako’s face watching from around the alleyway corner, gold eyes huge and fists clenched.

(Later that day, Mako would go to the Triad’s and ask for help. Later that day, an anonymous benefactor would post Bolin’s bail. Later that day, Mako and Bolin were welcomed into their new jobs as Triple Threat Triads property.)

Up until now, that had been the most Bolin had ever been scared. Staring down an approaching Amon, however, was quickly climbing the ranks.

Bolin took a step back, hands raised in front of him as if he could plead with Amon’s particular brand of lunaticy. He could feel the bricks around him, trembling lightly in their mortar and paint casings. The jeering crowd hardly seemed to notice the brick dust floating down on them. One well placed aim with one of those bricks and Bolin knew he’d be home free. He’d gotten better at dodging angry crowds, after getting arrested Mako had drilled him for months on dodging and weaving and watching his step. 

The bricks gave a particularly hard shudder as Amon took another step.

He’d fought (hell, he was a professional bender), but Bolin wouldn’t really categorize himself as a fighter. He was more the heart of the team, all hugs and soft spots and smiles. Mako was the brain, the strategist. And Korra was fast establishing herself as the unstoppable muscle. _‘If Mako were here, he’d already have eight different escape plans. Korra would probably just jump into the crowd and fistfight her way out.’_

Amon took another step.

He felt like that scared twelve year old again, staring wide eyed at the cop as he was read his rights and manhandled more than he knew that a scared twelve year old should have been. He felt like that scared six year old who Mako had bundled up and stolen from under their foster parents when he’d overheard them talking about sending the boys to different families.

He wanted Mako.

Another step.

Bolin felt rooted to the ground in the worst way possible as two of Amon’s thugs wrestled him to his knee. He could remember being thrown onto his face by those cops when he was twelve, the way his nose nearly broke against the concrete. Now, Bolin swore he could taste the phantom iron of blood dripping down the back of his throat. The bricks were vibrating, the crowd seemed to finally notice the near constant showering of dust and dirt but they didn’t care, shouting and hollering as Amon finally stood before Bolin. “I’ve never cared for Earthbenders.” Amon said calmly. His hand came up to gently cup Bolin’s face. There was some kind of smell, like saltwater and ozone clinging to his clothes. Bolin was going to be sick.

In the crowd something flashed red and gold. Bolin barely managed to turn his head and met a pair of wide gold eyes and clenched fists. Mako was dodging and weaving, trying to get around the clumps of gagglers watching and cheering as Amon raised his other hand high like a benediction. The last thing Bolin saw was Mako, at the edge of the stage with his hand reaching out as Amon dug the tip of his thumb into Bolin’s forehead and everything went fuzzy.

It felt weird.

It hurt.

It _hurt._

It was like Amon had reached into his very soul and was snipping away at the gossamer strings that held the whole thing together. Bolin almost felt like he was outside of his body but not quite; two inches to the left of where he was supposed to be. Mako always said he had a talent for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And here he was, in the absolute worst place at the absolute worst time feeling the strings that wove together to make him _him_ being plucked apart.

A loud explosion happened, as did three things:

First, Bolin managed to wrench his eyes open. Did he close them? When did he close them? Why did he close them? He felt sick and feverish and painfully aware of someone’s hand digging their thumb into his forehead.

Second, the room began to fill with steam. Below them on stage, the crowds began to shove and scream, fleeing the heat and dampness as the air became thick with mist and nearly impossible to see through. Wild, wide gold eyes managed to cut through the fog (the literal and the metaphorical fog currently wreaking havoc on Bolin) and meet his eyes.

Third, Amon flinched.

In that moment, that flinch, Bolin felt Amon’s thumb dig a little deeper into his forehead and suddenly that horrible aching snapping turned into a deep, visceral _rip._ All at once it felt like someone stuck a hot poker between his eyes and down his throat, melting and shredding everything else on the way. Someone was making a horrible gasping noise and it took a moment for Bolin to realize it was him making that noise. He could taste bile in the back of his throat, he could taste _blood._ Something was dripping from his nose and staining the wooden stage, which he only just realized his head was hung low and staring at. Above him, Amon swore quietly as the ~~police~~ henchmen dropped him into a heap on the now bloodstained floor. 

“Shit. I’m… Shit.” Amon seemed to look around the rapidly enclosing mist in a panic before hissing out a breath and grabbing a fistful of Bolin’s hair, forcing fuzzy green eyes to meet his own. “All I wanted your bending.” He ground out almost reluctantly before dropping Bolin again and stealing away with his chi blockers as the fog overtook the group. 

A second later, a pair of black boots and rough-gentle hands hauled Bolin to his feet. “Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s Mako.” A voice soothed just above Bolin’s left ear. “Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?” The whole world was fuzzy, Bolin wasn’t sure if his eyes were still open or not. He could feel fresh blood still steadily dripping from his nose. “Shit, okay. Alright, carry it is. Damn it, where’s Korra?!” The hands gripped tightly at Bolin’s clothes and the world spun as he felt himself draped over... Someone? Something? He could barely feel his body. What was he looking at? Where was he?

He wanted Mako.

Slowly, things were coming back into focus. First the drops of red clinging to the back of his savior’s shirt and staining his own fingertips. Next, the way the world was rocking back and forth. He was being carried? Whoever was carrying him was running, dodging and weaving through the steam. Finally, he recognized the red scarf flapping in the corner of his eye. His father? Was their dad here?

No. Dad’s gone. Long gone. It isn’t his scarf anymore, it’s…

_‘Mako?’_

Bolin opened his mouth to say his brother’s name but all that came out was a deep, whispering wheeze. The blood-bile taste was back, and he could feel the fog creeping in again. The last thing Bolin saw was a pair of brown mukluks in his tunnelling vision and a woman’s voice calling his name before everything fuzzed over and went dark.

_‘It was alright. Mako has him, so everything would be okay.’_ Bolin thought dizzily before passing out.


	2. Tfw No Bending :(

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra confronts her fears. Bolin confronts his new limitations. Mako confronts a speeding moped.
> 
> Book 1 Chapter 3: The Voice In The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said update every other Friday but I really breezed through this chapter. So chapters are now either every other Friday or when I finish them. I don't have a beta so all spelling mistakes are my own!
> 
> A lot of the dialogue is lifted from LoK canon, but some scenes were adjusted or rewritten altogether to fit this fic's plotline. Also bc Asami and Korra are both my daughters and I hate to see the girls fighting.
> 
> Once again I'm not mute and it's shockingly hard to find information on muteness as a result of bodily trauma. If I fuck anything up spectacularly please nicely let me know.
> 
> Also I made a tumblr if anyone wants to come holler at me about my writing. I'm @tidepod-juul03 on tumblr. It's empty rn so some yell at me!

“...Awake by now.”

“...Time… Did all… can do... Wait…”

“...Already done enough!”

“....”

“Sorry. ...I know… Trying… Helpful…”

“Katara will know…”

Somewhere to his right, people would not stop talking. Why were they talking? It was way too early for talking. Letting out a quiet little whine of complaint, Bolin forced an eye open only to be met with Mako’s face maybe five inches from his own.

“Calm down! Don’t yell, you might hurt yourself.” Mako quickly said when Bolin opened his mouth to shriek. Raising a hand, he smoothed back his brother’s bedhead and sighed. It was a familiar gesture (and noise), one Bolin had experienced hundreds of times in his life at this point and one that never failed to comfort him on some level. “You… Earlier, you were trying to scream in your sleep and there was some blood. Not a lot!” Mako added a little frantically. “Just. Look, Katara should be here in a few weeks and we’ll get this sorted out. But for now, all you gotta know is there’s some damage to your voice and you shouldn’t talk.” Eyes softening, Mako pulled Bolin into a hug. “Just focus on healing.”

Healing. His throat would heal. But what about…?

Looking around the room over Mako’s shoulder, he saw Korra standing there, looking like a nervous teen for the first time in her life as she approached and held something out. “Here, I swiped a chalkboard from Tenzin’s classroom. We’re on Air Temple Island, by the way. After… After, we figured it would be safer to bring you here until we get this mess sorted out.” Korra explained. 

Pulling back from the hug, Bolin took the chalkboard and chalk in shaky hands and carefully tried to write out messy characters.  _ ‘My bending.’ _ Was all he wrote, giving his friend and brother a wide eyed stare. 

He already knew the answer.

Earthbending had always felt like a third hand, something he could always rely on. Walking down the street, he could feel the vibrations of every individual stone as it vibrated under the passing Satomobiles. The few times he’d been out of the city and into the surrounding farmlands, it was like the best kind of itch in the palm of his hands to reach down and touch the ground. While every other earthbender seemed to race towards metalbending as the be all end all of earthbending, Bolin had always enjoyed taking the time to master and explore the root of his element.

That itching, vibrating feeling was gone. The ideal of stone and dirt felt claustrophobic, nausea inducing. He could barely feel the chalk in his hand.

“I’m sorry Bolin.” Korra mumbled and reached out to smooth Bolin’s hair as well. Bolin felt like he could cry; aside from Mako no one had ever offered him any real comfort in over a decade. And this time it was because of grief.

Beside him, Mako shot off the bed and began to pace back and forth like a caged platypus bear. “I’m gonna kill Amon.” He said calmly, the only thing revealing his agitation being the way he paced and the ringing of the frayed end of their father’s scarf. “Seriously. He’s a dead man. I’ll do it myself. All that shit he talks about equality, it’s bullshit. The world isn’t fair. He wants equality, he can find it in a shallow grave like everyone else and fuck if I’m not the one who’s gonna put him there!”

“Mako! Hey, hey tough guy?” Korra cut in sitting down on the bed beside Bolin and wrapping an arm around him. “Cool it, you’re gonna scare your brother.”

All at once, it was like the fight drained out of Mako as he saw the wide eyed, pale look on Bolin’s face. Bolin knew he looked pathetic, tears streaming down his face and hands shaking so bad that Korra took the chalkboard back. It felt like the walls were closing in, his vision was tunnelling again and his head  _ ached _ . Logically, Bolin knew he was more than just a bender. He was Mako’s brother, he was Pabu’s owner, he liked to write songs in his head and dance to radio top 40’s and would spend forever every morning making sure the curl in the front of his hair was just right. But at the end of the day, he was also a pro bender. God, he  _ was  _ a pro bender. 

Bolin made a shaky gesture for the chalkboard and carefully erased the previous question before clumsily writing out his next one. Why was his writing so messy? Why did it feel like his hands and arms had minds of their own and decided all they wanted to do was shake? Hands still trembling, he handed the chalkboard to Mako.

“ _ ‘What about the Fire Ferrets?’ _ Bolin. That doesn’t matter anymore. Who cares about the Fire Ferrets? Even if we had the money for the championship, there’s no way I’d compete without my little brother.” Mako huffed and placed a hand on Bolin’s shaking shoulder. “We made that team ourselves from the ground up. We had a good run and that’s what mattered then. You’re what matters now.”

Mako, as a rule, wasn’t really a crier. Bolin could count on his one hand the number of times he’d seen his brother cry. But looking up at Mako’s red rimmed eyes, he felt something inside him bolster a little. Reaching up, he grabbed Mako by the scarf and pulled him in for a hug, ignoring Mako’s squawk of surprise before he settled in. Beside them, Korra wrapped strong arms around the both of them and rested her head on Bolin’s shoulder. Somewhere over from the desk by the window, Pabu snored away.

_ ‘This is what matters now.’ _ Bolin thought and shut his eyes.

\---

A few days had passed and the shaking wasn’t much better. Even with all the extra sleeping Bolin did nowadays, even on the good days, his hands still shook. He got tired easily, barely able to walk more than a few minutes without needing to sit. And it was like he was constantly at sea, the way his balance felt thrown off.

The headaches didn’t seem to stop either. Neither did the bloody noses.

_ ‘Mako, something’s really wrong with me, isn’t there?’ _ Bolin had written one night, the brothers sat up on one the wooden beds in the air temple in silent solidarity. “Nothing’s wrong with you. Things may be different for now, but when Katara gets here we’ll know more. She’s the greatest healer in the world, she’s got to be able to help.” Mako had replied and wrapped an arm around his little brother, pulling him in for a gentle noogie.

That was another thing.

Mako had always been the realist, the brains of the operation. Bolin would be the first to admit he frequently got distracted by flights of fancy and always wanted to see the good in others. But if Mako was going to be the stubbornly optimistic one, Bolin sighed and accepted his (hopefully) temporary position of professional sourpuss.

What if Katara couldn’t fix him?

\---

Bolin had always loved the radio, but now that he was stuck inside the Air Temple for the most part, he really was about to marry the stupid thing. It brought him news, music, information about what he was missing out on across the harbour. Usually he’d turn the radio on and drift off to sleep pretty easily. Usually the radio kept the nightmares at bay. 

Usually.

“...My fellow Equalists. This is your leader, Amon.”

That voice came spilling out of the radio like an oil slick, startling Bolin out of his half asleep state. In the chair across the room, Mako leapt to his feet, the air sizzling around his hands.

“As you have heard, the Republic Council has voted to make me public enemy number one, proving once again that the bending oppressors of this city will stop at nothing to quash our revolution.” At that, Mako and Bolin exchanged a look. Korra had mentioned that Tenzin had been complaining about a meeting with the Council and their response to Amon, but she hadn’t known the details. Bolin felt rooted to the bed, unable to do anything but stare in horror at the radio as Amon’s voice continued to circle around his head like a bad dream. 

“But, we cannot be stopped. Our numbers grow stronger by the day.” There had been hundreds of people at the rally, hundreds of people had stood there and cheered while Amon stole Bolin’s bending, stole his  _ voice _ . Hundreds of people had looked at him standing there, scared on that stage, and thought  _ ‘He deserves what’s coming to him.’ _ It had never really hit Bolin until now that he’d been entertaining, some sick party trick show off for an angry, rabid crowd. He felt like he could taste that blood-bile again.

“You no longer have to live in fear. The time has come for benders to experience fear.”

Suddenly, the room went silent as Mako pulled the plug on the radio, the pretty yellow and white lights going dark as the radio sat quiet and useless. “Bolin, Bolin deep breaths.” _ ‘Oh. I’m not breathing.’  _ Bolin realized, fists clenched tightly in the fabric of blankets. His heart was racing, palms sweating, his head throbbed like someone chucked a rock at his skull. The room was tunnelling again until all he could see was Mako’s blurry face, kneeling in front of him and holding his shoulders, mouth moving but unable to hear the words over the ringing in his ears.

Vaguely, Bolin could feel Mako prying one of his hands free from their death grip on the blanket and pressing it to his own chest. “Focus on my breathing, deep breaths.” Mako instructed, thumb gently running a soothing pattern across the back of his brother's hand.

Bolin took a shaky breath, fingers digging into Mako’s chest and shirt in a way that he was sure must have hurt, but neither of them said anything for long minutes while Bolin focused on Mako’s breathing and the way his heart beat steadily under his shaky hand.  _ ‘If Mako’s here, it’s okay.’ _ Bolin thought a little frantically. It felt like forever, the two of them sitting there in the half dark breathing together. Bolin slumped forward, resting his forehead against Mako’s shoulder and screwing his eyes shut tight to fight back the tears he felt rising and stinging the back of his eyes. Warm arms wrapped themselves around Bolin, a hand coming up to carefully stroke his hair. “It’s okay to be scared. But you don’t have to be. I promise I won’t let Amon anywhere near you again.”

Bolin pulled back at that and fixed Mako with a piercing stare before scooping up his chalkboard and carefully writing out words in his now messy handwriting.  _ ‘What about you and Korra? I know you.’ _ Mako smiled a little ruefully and pressed a quick kiss to his little brother’s forehead. “Korra’s a one woman army, As for myself, I promise to be careful.” Bolin frowned at the not-promise and reached over to tug on their father’s scarf. “Look, I can’t promise that I won’t take an opportunity if I see it. I want him to pay. But I promise I won’t go looking for trouble. Does that sound fair?”

_ ‘As fair as I guess I’m gonna get.’ _ Bolin thought a little sourly, nodding his affirmation and leaning against his brother again.

\---

_ ‘Stupid Korra.’ _

It wasn’t often Mako found himself cursing his friend and teammate out (to be fully honest, he was about as starstruck by her as Bolin, if far less obvious about it). However, after she had cornered him on the way to bring Bolin lunch and bullied him into taking the afternoon to himself under threat of involving his little brother, Mako had no choice but to fold like a cheap suit.

So he’d gone out. Gotten some lunch, swung by the old gym for practice, studiously ignored the pitying looks he got from the other pro bender teams as he cleaned out the Fire Ferret’s lockers, hell he even pet a cute puppy chick on the way. All and all, a fulfilling day off.

He hated every second of it.

_ ‘Korra doesn’t know Bolin like I do. She’s so busy with Avatar stuff, what if she forgets to bring Bolin food or talk with him? What if he panics again? Or loses his chalkboard? Or gets hurt? Or Amon shows up to attack her and he decides to finish the job while he’s there?’ _ As a rule, Mako didn’t fret or panic. That was his brother’s bag. He did, however, contemplate and make plans. And if his plans had an anxious edge to them, well, no one but him needed to know.

Pacing at the edge of the street, Mako eyed the StreetSato across the road as it stopped for passengers. It was too early, way too early. He’d only been gone for three hours tops. Korra would skin him alive if he chickened out of his day off too early. However, thinking about Bolin sitting alone in that little wooden room with a chalkboard and an unplugged radio (another thing Amon had taken from his little brother), Mako found he didn’t really care as he stepped out into a gap in traffic.

_ ‘Should have stopped by that Water Tribe food place Bolin likes so much, I’m sure he’s getting sick of Air Temple fo-’ _

Next thing Mako knew, he was on his front staring down at the pavement, head throbbing and palms and knees scraped to hell. From somewhere nearby, a lady shouted and raced towards him as Mako carefully pushed himself into a sitting position. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” The woman pleaded, hands wringing as Mako rubbed at his temple and glared up at her.  _ ‘If I had gotten seriously hurt, I’d have lost it.’ _ He thought, once again struck by the image of Bolin waiting alone in his room for his brother to come home. Besides, if there was one thing living in the city had given Mako, it was a low tolerance for shitty drivers. “How could you not see me?! I mean I was j...ju…”

The woman pulled off her helmet and gave Mako a confused look, but all he could see was green. The greenest, most expressive eyes he’d ever seen. She had this piercing look to her, like she could see right past all his blustering and posturing and see something deep inside that she was fascinated with. It was almost overwhelming, being fixed with such an intense set of eyes. Yeah, she was gorgeous, all wavy dark hair and red lips. But it was the  _ eyes _ , those eyes. One look and Mako felt helplessly and hopelessly twisted up inside.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” The woman asked, kneeling down to loop an arm around Mako and haul him to his feet.  _ ‘S...Strong.’  _ “I’m such an idiot.” Another thing Mako really didn’t care for was self flagellation. He’d always put a stop to it with Bolin growing up, and the rare time Korra had gotten down on herself he’d firmly reminded her that she was the mother fucking Avatar. Mistakes were part of growth. Hitting people with your moped was not, but Mako was always ready to make an exception for a pretty lady. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. My brother hits me harder than that everyday in practice.”

Ah. Used to hit him harder. Past tense sat like a bitter pill in Mako’s mouth. He’d never regret disbanding the team, even if he knew Bolin would sit by bravely if they hired a new earthbender, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss it sometimes.

“Wait, I recognize you! You’re Mako! You play for the Fire Ferrets, right?” Mako frowned slightly and looked away. How exactly does one explain to someone that the team disbanded because an insane man stole your little brother's bending ability and possibly his ability to talk? 

Easy. You don’t.

“Yep. That’s me.” Mako replied and smiled a little woodenly.  _ ‘Please don’t ask anymore questions.’ _ What happened wasn’t exactly a secret, but most people just assumed they dropped out of the tournament due to not having the money to ante up. Which, really, was true too. Still, there’s a difference between something being not-a-secret and talking about it with a near stranger in the streets.

The woman sighed again and ran her fingers through her hair, face bright red and eyes darting to the side in a way that was entirely too charming for its own good. “I am  _ so _ embarrassed.” She groaned. Any left over anger Mako felt seemed to drain away at her genuine distress. His anger had always been like his fire, quick to flare up and quick to settle. It was just a stupid accident, no one was seriously hurt and that’s what mattered.

Holding out a hand, the woman smiled for the first time and held out a hand. Mako felt like that time he took a rock puck to the head during a match. It was easily one of the most genuine smiles he’d ever seen directed at him and it nearly sent him sprawling again. “My name’s Asami. Let me make this up to you somehow. How about I treat you to dinner? Tomorrow night, 8 o’clock, Kwong’s Cuisine?” She suggested.

Any other time, Mako would have said yes. He’d have said yes in a heartbeat, even if Kwongs was a little stuffy for his tastes. But across the harbour was a little brother who needed him more than Mako needed a social life or a date right now. “I’m… sorry. I can’t. It’s…” Mako trailed off, searching for a way to explain why he was turning her down without going into their whole history. “Your brother. Bolin right? I read about it in the sports section of the paper a while back. I hoped it was just gossip but…?” Asami trailed off, looking distraught when Mako shook his head. His throat felt full of cotton and his eyes burned. He’d pay all the money in the world for it to be gossip, spill as much blood as needed, do anything anyone asked to give his brother himself back. 

“...Well tell you what. I’m free right now, and I assume you’re free too?” Mako nodded, still not trusting himself to speak. “Well, this moped’s been dying for a two person carrier test and I know a great little pho place nearby. Want to get some early dinner?” Asami asked, holding out her hand and smiling wide when Mako took it. “Sounds perfect.” Mako replied, smiling back.

\---

The pho really was great. Savory, flavourful. The broth was rich and thick and seemed to melt in your mouth. But what really was the best part of the meal was the conversation. It was perfect. It felt like anything Mako brought up, Asami made better with her own point of view. They talked about everything: food, music, how the cityscape had changed over the years, even the loss of Asami’s mother and Mako’s parents. It felt like meeting someone and knowing, from that first conversation, that they would hold a special place in your heart.

Finally, the evening began to wind down and the two of them found themselves walking along the harbourfront, telling stories about their childhood. Unsurprisingly, Asami had been the perfect little angel to Mako’s troublemaker childish self. “It took probably a week for us to stop smelling like fish. And that’s why Bolin doesn’t cook dinner anymore.” Mako finished, grinning at Asami. “You’re… really close with your brother, aren’t you?” She asked. “Almost every story you’ve told involves Bolin.” 

Mako paused, scrambling mentally and finding himself at a loss when he realized she was right. Most, if not all, of his best stories involved Bolin. “...Sorry.” He finally said, looking embarrassed as Asami laughed. “No, no. It’s really sweet. I always wanted a brother.” She replied and punched Mako gently in the arm. Mako smiled and gently punched her back, the two of them letting their laughs echo across the ship studded harbour before settling back into a comfortable, companionable silence.

“...How is Bolin? I can’t imagine… I mean, I’m not a bender so I guess it’s different for me but… God, I’m not wording this right. Just… how is your brother adapting?” Asami asked. Mako took a deep breath and looked out across the water. How was Bolin doing? Their whole life, his little brother had been an open book and Mako had the best footnotes available. But now? “He’s… closed himself off. I don’t know what the papers reported, but he… he can’t talk anymore. Amon did something else to him and now Bolin can’t say anything.”

Asami frowned thoughtfully, absentmindedly picking at the threading on her glove. “Is it trauma related? My cousin went through something horrible once and she stopped speaking.” Mako shook his head and sighed. “I wish. When he tries to speak there’s blood. Not a lot!” He added at Asami’s startled expression. “Just spotting. We’re waiting on Katara to come see us, but it’s a long ship ride from the South Pole. For now, we’re just waiting. I think Bolin’s gonna hit one of us with his chalkboard if we keep telling him to be patient.”

“Chalkboard? A little old fashion, but I guess it works.” Asami turned away from the water, eyes lighting up. “You know, Bolin’s not the only person in the world who can’t talk. There’s ways around it that are less cumbersome than a chalkboard. Not to say it isn’t a bad idea, my father Hiroshi always said it isn’t stupid if it works. But I can think of a dozen inventions off the top of my head that could help with accessibility. And what about sign language? It isn’t universal, I think each Nation has their own quirks and translations of words but it’s still just a language. Asami flexed her fingers, eyes bright as she started to pace back and forth on the beach. “Mako, I’ve never really considered tech applications for disabilities but now I can’t stop thinking of ideas! Why has no one thought of this yet? We can’t all be Toph Beifong! Imagine the people it would help!”

Mako blinked.

“...Did you just say Hiroshi? As in Hiroshi Sato? And you’re Asami? As in Asami Sato?” He asked.  _ ‘Like, Satomobile Sato?’ _ “Yeah he’s my dad. Did I not mention that?” Asami replied absently, flipping her hair out of her eyes as she fished out a notebook from her pocket and began to frantically jot down notes. “Want to meet him? I’m going to talk to him as soon as possible. This could be massive, Mako! Could you imagine the impact we could have?” Suddenly Mako found himself with an armful of inventor as Asami threw her arms around him and crushed the life half out of him. “Thank you so much for the idea! Do you think I could meet Bolin? Soon? If I’m going to create a computer that speaks for him I’m gonna need to know what his needs are.”

“Uh… sure?” Mako managed to mumble out around a mouthful of hair. “I’ll have to talk to him first. He’s been nervous since what happened. But I know he’ll trust you if I vouch for you.” Pulling back, Mako fixed Asami with a faux haughty stare. “I have very high standards.” Asami laughed again and let go, resuming scribbling like a madwoman in her notebook. “Well, so do I. I don’t take just anyone out for pho.” She replied, winking and grinning wildly as Mako turned bright red. “Techno brat.” He muttered, letting Asami take him by the hand and guide him further down the shoreline.

\---

Elsewhere, Bolin was studiously sitting on a flight of stairs outside the air temple and Not Thinking About It. ‘It’ being: Amon, being out in the open for the first time in a week, the envy he felt watching Korra practice her airbending, and the gut wrenching fear he felt with Mako being out of his sight.

First off, Air Temple Island is an island. Amon doesn’t own a boat. Checkmate, anxiety.

Second (and third), he was the one who asked Korra if he could come outside and watch her practice airbending. Honestly, Bolin felt like he was gonna go nuts if he spent another hour in the small wooden room he’d been calling home. Even if he couldn’t walk for a long distance and sitting up for too long made his nose bleed, he could at least spend a few minutes watching his friend practice while helping brush Nala’s fur out (a chore she frequently thanked him for with big wet slobbery kisses). Plus, Pabu needed the fresh air.

The last issue was… less easy to fix. When Korra told him she’d forced Mako to take a self care day, he’d been all for it. However, the longer his brother was gone, the worse Bolin felt inside. Like his stomach was eating itself, and his bones were itching inside his skin. _ ‘Mako’s fine. He’ll be here soon.’ _ Is what Bolin had been saying to himself for about four hours now. But it was already late afternoon and due to get dark soon and honestly Bolin was one bad move away from crying and asking Korra to go find his brother.

“Delivery for Avatar Korra!”

There appeared to be a… walking gift basket heading their way? Bolin frowned as the attendant dropped the basket at Korra’s feet, who looked  _ remarkably  _ unimpressed. “Tarrlok sends his compliments and urges you to reconsider his offer.” They chirped. Bolin looked sideways at Korra as she nudged the basket further away with her foot. “Tell him I haven’t changed my mind.” Korra replied flatly, the two of them watching the attendant march away straight backed and eyes forward.  _ ‘Like some kind of creepy robot…’ _

Chalkboard in hand, Bolin wandered over to Korra where she stood sneering at the gift basket and messily wrote,  _ ‘Who’s this Tarrlok guy? Is he bothering you? Because I can have a word with him.’  _ Nevermind that Bolin was pretty sure he’d lose a fight with Meelo right now, if someone was bothering Korra, he knew he’d find the fight in him somewhere and go smash some heads. Bonk some heads. Probably lightly tap some heads.

Korra paused and laughed, reaching over to gently mess up Bolin’s hair and ignoring the near silent squawk he made. “No, it’s not like that. He’s just some old guy who works with Tenzin on the council. He just wants help with something.” She explained, smiling and pulling Bolin in for a hug. “You’re adorable.” She giggled, turning back to her airbending and missing the bright red blush on Bolin’s face. 

_ ‘I’m… adorable?’ _

\---

One pho date turned into a walk on the beach turned into milkshakes shared together and a picnic in the park and even a little hand holding. Mako had what one could call a… spotty history with women. Sue him, he’d been raising his brother since he was eight. But he was 80% sure Asami was into him. When she leaned over and kissed him after their fifth outing (date?), Mako felt confident bumping it up to 90%.

\---

Mako and Bolin were engaged in a heated game of Pai Sho when Korra kicked the door in. It said less about Bolin’s state of anxiety and more about Korra’s habit of kicking doors in that no one flinched. “Tarrlok’s throwing me a gala and I don’t trust him.” She announced, plopping down on the floor beside Bolin. “Move the lily tile.” 

Letting out a hiss of victory, Bolin experty moved the tile in question with a shaky hand. “What? No that’s cheating you can’t get Korra’s help.” Mako whined, glaring at the two of them as they innocently avoided his eyes. “Now what’s this about a gala?”

“Tarrlok wants me to head up a task force to flush out Amon. I turned him down. Now he won’t leave me alone and I’m just worried this is some kind of ploy to force my hand.” Korra explained, gently nudging Bolin out of the way and taking over his end of the board. Bolin shifted, moving Mako out of the way and letting Mako get up and pace, as he always did when he was thinking. “It could be. I don’t know much about Tarrlok but everything Asami’s told me about him feels kinda slimy.”

“..Asami?” Korra asked, looking up from the pai sho board. “Who’s Asami?” Bolin squealed, practically diving for his chalkboard and scrawling out  _ ‘Mako’s girlfriend!’ _ with big hearts all around the words. “She’s not my girlfriend! I think. I don’t know, she kissed me and we keep going out together. Is that a girlfriend?” At that, Korra stood up and crossed the room, landing a hard punch to Mako’s arm. “Dumbass! That’s a girlfriend! Who is she? What’s her address? Can I beat her up if she hurts you?”

“She’s Asami Sato, no, and no!” Mako shot back, nursing his now bruised arm and sitting back down at what was formally Korra’s (and previously Bolin’s) side of the board. “She hit me with her moped and we got chatting. She’s a pro bending fan and an inventor. Actually, I think she invited Bolin and I to the same gala Tarrlok’s throwing. She’s working on some kind of writing to speech thing for Bolin so he doesn’t have to keep worrying about losing his dumb chalk like a dumbass.” Mako added, reaching across the board to flick Bolin’s forehead and grinning at the silent shriek he let out.

“That’s… good. Okay. I feel better knowing you two will be there if things get hairy. Bolin, are you sure you feel alright going? I know you’re nervous out in the open.” Bolin paused and carefully wrote.  _ ‘I’m nervous. But I trust Mako and he trusts Asami. And I trust you, Korra. I know with you two there nothing bad can happen.’ _

Mako and Korra made eye contact for a moment before looking away.  _ ‘Last time we were supposed to save Bolin, things went wrong.’ _ Mako thought anxiously.  _ ‘I won’t let it happen again.’ _

\---

Bolin and Mako were one of the firsts to arrive. Asami had sent a driver to pick them up at the pier and even provided suits for the evening. Honestly, Bolin didn’t think he’d ever see fabric so nice. It almost reminded him of his mother’s wedding robes, tucked away in a box that had long since been sold after their parents died. _ ‘We clean up nice.’ _ Bolin wrote, nudging Mako from his edgy, gloomy staring out the window. Ever since Korra’s weird reaction and her telling Mako that Asami was definitely his girlfriend (something Bolin had already known but knew he had to wait for his emotionally stunted older brother to realize), Mako had been quiet.

_ ‘I’m excited to meet Asami.’  _ Mako glanced over at the writing and smiled slightly. “She’s excited to meet you too. Not just for science reasons. She likes the Fire Ferrets and thinks you’re the best thing since unagi. She’s super sweet too, so don’t worry. She said she’d leave the car and driver nearby so if you get nervous we can leave immediately.” Mako explained, unintentionally assuaging one of Bolin’s biggest fears. Even as a child, he hated staying in one place for too long. He liked to come and go as he pleased. The idea of being trapped in a stuffy place with stuffy people in stuffy clothes was… less than appealing.

The car came to a gentle stop and the driver got out, opening the door for them. “Master Mako. Master Bolin.” He intoned. Bolin gripped his cane tightly as he stepped out onto the pavement. Earlier, Tenzin had stopped by his room and offered the worn, black stained wooden cane, explaining that it had been his mother’s old cane that she only used when she needed a hand on the stairs. “I know your balance has been off. I assumed this would help keep you steady.”

Now, Bolin was just grateful to have something to hold him up as the cameras flashed and the paparazzo shouted questions. The questions were loud and incessant, some asking who they were, others asking about the Fire Ferrets, and one particularly brassy reporter asking about Amon. “No comment. Let’s just get inside.” Mako said, one arm around Bolin and the other in front of them as if warding the reporters to stay back if they didn’t want a new burn scar.

Inside, there was maybe a dozen stuffed shirts milling around. No one Bolin recognized immediately, but then again politics had never been his strong suit. But there, rapidly making her way towards them, was Asami Sato looking just like the dozens of flawless pictures of her that littered the gossip rags of Republic City. “Mako! Bolin!” She called, coming to stand before them. She took a minute to press a quick kiss to Mako’s cheek before turning back to Bolin, barely noticing how bright red Mako had turned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Asami Sato.” She said before leaning in to whisper, “Mako’s told me everything about you, he’d go on for hours about his little brother if you let him. I think it’s sweet how close you two are.”

Now it was Bolin’s turn to turn red as he silently stammered. “But anyways, I didn’t come over here to embarrass you! Mako mentioned you sometimes have trouble standing for long periods of time so I arranged a wheelchair to be waiting in one of the side rooms if you feel you need it. And not to be presumptuous, but did Mako tell you about sign language? I know he said you two hadn’t really heard of it before.”

Bolin shrugged and made a so-so gesture with his hand. “Okay, that’s no problem! If you’re interested, I rounded up a few books on the subject. You can use them if you want. Self teaching is harder than learning from a class, but I figured you’d want to get your feet wet before deciding if you wanted to jump in all the way.” Asami continued, smiling before suddenly drifting into a frown and glancing between the brothers. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I do that a lot. I also get carried away. If I’m being overbearing, let me know? I’m not looking to tell you your own business. I just know that recovery sometimes takes money and effort that people don’t always have.”

Bolin blinked and stared. Korra and Mako talked so much about how his chalkboard was temporary, how Katara would fix him when she arrived. No one had bothered to plan for a ‘what if’, not like Asami was planning. And it touched him. Here was a woman who had put hours of thought and care and research into helping him for no reason except for the love of helping others. In that moment, Bolin felt a kindred spirit within Asami. Someone who’s heart was bigger than their bones could handle.

_ ‘No, it’s perfect. Thank you. I’d like to borrow the books please. And thank you for having a wheelchair.’ _ Bolin wrote out before opening his arms and smiling as Asami gave him a bone crushing hug. “Bolin, we’re gonna get along famously.” She declared, stepping back.

“So this is the famous Mako and Bolin!” A man’s voice rang out, pulling the attention of the three of them. Standing there was Hiroshi Sato himself, all smiles and bright, welcoming eyes. “My Sami has told me a lot about you both.” Asami laughed and nudged her father. “Daddy. This is Mako, my boyfriend. And this is his brother Bolin, the muse behind my newest projects.” She explained, Bolin grinning to himself at the nervous look on Mako’s face. “It’s a pleasure, sir.” Mako said, bowing slightly. Boin quickly wrote down the same sentiments and held up the board, bowing as well.

“Korra, it is my pleasure to introduce Republic City’s most famous industrialist, Hiroshi Sato.” A new voice cut in, making all four of the group turn around. Councilman Tarrlok had a smarmy, almost greasy smile pasted onto his smug face while Korra just looked relieved to see familiar faces. “Avatar Korra. We expect great things from you.” Mr. Sato said, still smiling. “Right. Greatness.” Only Bolin and Mako seemed to notice the exhaustion in her voice and the way her eyes tightened slightly.  _ ‘Please don’t start a fist fight.’ _ Bolin thought tiredly.

“Ah, hey Korra.” Mako waved and it was like watching a sunrise, the way the tiredness seemed to slough off Korra’s face and be replaced with a smile and a faint blush.  _ ‘Oh no. Please start a fist fight.’ _

“This is my daughter Asami. I’m sure you two will get along perfectly well. Now, councilman, let’s leave the youths to speak.” Mr. Sato cut in, joining arms with Tarrlok and pulling him away despite the look on Tarrlok’s face. “Anyways, it’s so lovely to meet you! Mako’s told me all about you.” Asami said, eyes wide with near wonder as she looked at Korra. “Mako’s told me… a little about you. Mostly that you hit him with a moped.” Korra replied and crossed her arms, frowning intensely and seeming unmoved by the faltering look on Asami’s face. “Which doesn’t matter. I’m fine, I’m more than fine.” Mako cut in smoothly and gave Korra a look, to which she stuck her tongue out. “Yeah, you definitely seem more than fine.” Korra shot back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mako frowned and stepped forward.

_ ‘Aw beans.’ _

Tugging on Asami’s arm gently, Bolin wrote out,  _ ‘Would you mind showing me to the wheelchair please?’ _ Asami smiled and nodded, already tuning out the fighting going on beside them as she took his arm and the two of them walked towards one of the sitting rooms.

“I tried to wire it with a control panel like a car, but it just isn’t taking off yet. But you should be able to move the wheels manually or I can push you. How does that sound?” Asami asked, helping Bolin settle into the chair and lay his cane across his lap.  _ ‘Far be it for me to make a pretty lady spend her night pushing me around.’ _ He wrote, grinning when Asami snorted with laughter. “Careful buddy, I might start thinking I snatched up the wrong brother.”

By the time they got back, Korra and Mako seemed to have (thankfully) cooled off. “Everything alright?” Asami asked. “Chief Beifong came by and had a go at us for arguing and said she’d string us both up outside like a pair of hog rabbits if we kept fighting.” Korra muttered before tossing Mako an inscrutable look. “I’m gonna go get something to drink.” She added, turning on her heel and stalking away from the group.

_ ‘Yikes.’ _

“Bolin are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me you needed the wheelchair? If you’re tired we can go.” Mako said suddenly, reaching over to take the handles of the wheelchair.  _ ‘Nu uh, I’m fine. I want to stay. And I can push myself.’ _ Bolin wrote out, handing the board to Mako and crossing his arms. Mako sighed and carefully tweaked Bolin’s nose. “If you’re sure. Let’s go track down Korra.”

The group of three took maybe a half step towards the thicker part of the crowd, only to be interrupted by shouting and flashing lights. _ ‘Oh boy. Paparazzi probably found Korra beating someone up.’ _ Bolin joked, smiling at his friends as Mako rolled his eyes and Asami laughed. “Don’t joke, she probably got sick of Tarrlok being a sleaze and punched him in the nuts.” Mako sighed.

As they approached the gathering reporters, the chaos gradually reordered itself into noises and sounds and from there into words. The speed at which the reporters shouted questions made Bolin’s head hurt, the lights flashing in a way that was a little unsettling and nauseating. “You alright? How about we find Korra and go?” Mako leaned down to whisper, frowning at how pale and drawn Bolin looked as he tight fisted his cane in anxiety.  _ ‘Sounds like a plan.’ _ Bolin wrote, smiling weakly and reaching up to gently tug on Mako’s sleeve. Ahead of them, Asami was pushing a path for them through the reporters with a cutting look and socialite smile. “Come on, Korra’s on the main stairs answering questions.”

Above them, Korra seemed to flounder under the weight of the noises and lights, looking around nervously as reporters shot pointed question after question at her like daggers. Finally, one reporter stood up and called out, “Are you _ afraid _ of Amon?”, causing Korra to flinch a step back before squaring her shoulders. In that moment, staring fiercely down at the crowd of reporters with fire in her eyes and fists clenched, Bolin honestly thought he hadn’t seen anyone look so beautiful. “I’m not afraid of anybody!” She spat, regaining her footing and settling into a fighting stance. 

“If the city needs me…” Korra paused and looked across the crowd before seeming to settle on Bolin. The two made eye contact for a moment before Korra looked away a little shamefully. “If the people need me, then I will join Tarrlok’s task force.”

Bolin could barely hear Tarrlok’s crowing over the rush of additional questions and the pounding in his ears.  _ ‘It was a trap, and we let her walk right into it.’  _ He thought numbly, glancing up to meet Mako’s startled expression. Korra’s eyes darted around like a caged, frightened animal as Tarrlok held her in place for photos like some kind of zoo attraction. Bolin’s heart ached for her; as much as she fronted he knew what had happened at the rally had shaken all three of them. _ ‘She said no. She should be allowed to be scared. She’s a teenager.’  _ That moment of eye contact unsettled him too. He knew he and Korra had to talk about it eventually, how the few seconds longer it took her to set off her part of the plan had let Amon steal his bending. But he’d hoped they’d have longer before having to talk. _ ‘I bet talking emotions with Korra is gonna be like trying to lasso an angry bull hornet.’ _

\---

“So what was that?” Mako asked. Korra shrugged, looking out across the water as they sat waiting for the ferry to take them back to the island after a long day of meetings (Korra) and hang outs (Asami, Mako, and Bolin who never minded being a third wheel). Nearby, Bolin and Asami were working through one of the sign language books she’d brought. It was almost endearing, watching his little brother clumsily work through the finger signs as Asami laughed and helped correct the worst of his mistakes while Pabu rested nearby.

Sighing, Mako nudged Korra with his shoulder. “Come on. I know we don’t always get along and talking about emotions is like trying to eat a live octoshark, but talk to me. How come you challenged Amon to a duel?” Korra shrugged again and fidgeted with her fingers. “...I’m scared.” She mumbled. “My bending is such a huge part of who I am. I can’t imagine not having it.” Korra let her gaze drift over to where Bolin and Asami sat, spelling out simple words with their fingers. “I don’t know how he can still be so happy. If I lost my bending, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“He’s happy because he’s alive. Bolin’s never been the type to take anything for granted.” Mako explained. “He’s the best of all of us.”

Korra let out a shuttering sign and rested her head on Mako’s shoulder. “I’m just so scared. And I need to not be scared. I’m the Avatar, it’s practically my destiny to take down people like Amon. I can’t be scared all the time. And if I can see him, if I can touch him and hit him and  _ feel  _ him, I know he’s real and I can stop him. I can’t fight an idea, but I can end the man who created it. I have to confront him, Mako. I can’t live in fear. And I don’t want Bolin to be afraid anymore either.”

Mako shut his eyes tightly and wrapped an arm around Korra. “I think it’s a stupid idea, but if anyone can defeat Amon, it’s you. But be careful. Bolin would never forgive you if you got hurt.” _ ‘I’d never forgive myself.’  _ He admitted privately. His feelings for Korra were always messy and heated. It just depended day to day what those feelings translated into. It was like trying to see a picture in a fire before the light hurt your eyes and you had to look away.  _ ‘Maybe it’s best if I don’t look in the first place.’  _ Mako thought, one arm around Korra as he looked away to watch Asami and his brother gather up their reading materials.

\---

The night after the ambush was spent in quiet contemplation. Mako, Bolin, and Korra curled up together on the floor and simply being and being together. When Korra had arrived back at the island, tears stinging her eyes and hands shaking, Bolin had assumed the worst. It was bad enough that he’d lost so much, he’d never wish this pain and stress on someone else. _ ‘Thankfully, she’s okay.’ _ Bolin thought looking across the moonlit room to where Korra lay watching the stars through the window. Nearby, Mako slept.

“...I’m sorry, Bolin.” Korra finally broke her silence, still watching the stars. “I shouldn’t be so shaken up. It’s not fair to you.” Bolin frowned, sitting up and shuffling out from under his blanket to sit beside the young avatar. _ ‘I’m not the only one who’s allowed to be scared. The ambush must have been so scary.’ _ He wrote out and placed a hand on Korra’s shoulder. “It was. He told me he was going to save me for last. Bolin, I already got you hurt because of my inaction. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt but it feels like every move I make is the wrong one.”

_ ‘Getting hurt is part of living. It’s just part of the tax you pay to exist. You’re doing your best and that’s what matters.’ _ Bolin paused before adding, _ ‘And you didn’t get me hurt. Amon did. Don’t steal his thunder!’ _ At that, Korra laughed and leaned against Bolin’s shoulder. “...I think I’m gonna still feel bad for awhile. I’m scared and I can’t help but feel like you got dragged into this because of me. But it feels better knowing you’re not upset. Thank you.” Korra smiled and pressed a kiss to Bolin’s forehead. 

_ ‘Don’t thank me. You being here and safe is thanks enough. Also you gotta help me learn sign language so we can shit talk Mako in private.’ _ Bolin wrote, snorting silently to himself. Korra snorted too, tossing a fond look towards their sleeping friend before nodding and holding out a hand. “It’s a deal and a promise.”

  
_ ‘This,’ _ Bolin thought, taking in the way the moonlight lit up Korra’s eyes and the slow, steady breathing of his brother echoed in their small wooden room.  _ ‘This is what matters now.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADHD Asami content? In my mute Bolin fic? It's more likely than you think. 
> 
> Side note I know there's like. No ladies content in this chapter. This is a horrible oversight on my part and will be corrected for future chapters bc Korra and Asami deserve their own POV sections.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!


End file.
